


Full Moon

by Adrenalineshots



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode Tag, Gen, Hurt Malcolm Bright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrenalineshots/pseuds/Adrenalineshots
Summary: Just a short, fun, and very indulgent tag to episode 16. Spoilers for that episode.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 87





	Full Moon

The thing about head injuries was that the brain sometimes took a while to figure out that something was not right. Too many neurons firing at the same time, so much happening at once and details were sometimes lost in the confusion. Slipped between the cracks of a busy brain.

Malcolm was fine. He was actually more than fine. He was ecstatic.

Vijay had gotten his coded message, had come back for him and ended up saving the day, proving that not only was he trustworthy but that he was still a friend. They actually made a pretty good team together.

And Gil was there. And Dani was there... Wow! He was starting to sound like a character in the Wizard of Oz.

Which was why, when everything around him started turning a interesting shade of green, flashing yellow and pinpricks of purple, Malcolm had half expected JT to jump out from some bush, in full on lion costume.

JT didn't jump out from nowhere, at least not before everything was plunged into darkness. “Power surge?” Malcolm asked no one in particular, reaching out with his hand for the pillar behind him. The darkness was making him feel kind of dizzy, that whole disorientating thing of up and down looking exactly the same.

“What power surge?” Vijay asked to his right, sounding utterly confused. “Man, how hard did that guy slap you?”

Malcolm breathing sped up, panic coming at him like a speeding train. Vijay had always been the practical joker of the two of them. Surely he was just pulling his leg. Of course there was a power surge... why else would the lights be out? “The lights are on?” he asked, cursing his stupid voice for sounding so scared. It was a joke, just a damn jo--

“Malcolm... I think you should sit down.”

Gil sounded a lot more closer than Malcolm remembered him being. He also sounded worried as hell. A hand touched his shoulder and Bright flinched hard before warm fingers found the back of his neck and he realized it was just Gil.

“Dani, you better call a bus. Fast,” the Lieutenant called out softly, that clipped and forced quiet tone of voice he had when he was trying really hard not to shout and scream. “Malcolm, listen to me...”

All Malcolm _could_ do was listen, but even that wasn't working all that well because mostly he was hearing his heart hammering wildly inside his ears, his breathing galloping out of control. The lights were not off... the problem was with his eyes... shit! Was he blind? How was he blin--

“Hey! Hey, kid! Slow breaths, okay?”

Gil's voice was warm and grounding, so was the gentle touch on his neck, soothing over tense muscles. He tried to follow Gil's advice, he really did, but his head was beginning to pound in time with his heart and his lungs were burning and his shaking hand had enlisted his whole body... it was too much.

The last thing Malcolm registered was how soft Gil's coat and a whiff of Dani's perfume. Coconut. He loved coconut.

-0-

“It's called transient post-traumatic cortical blindness.”

They had been waiting for hours. A battalion of angst filled minutes that had started the moment Malcolm had collapsed on Arroyo's arms and had yet to have an ending in sight. Not when the doctor that had finally stepped out to give them some news, insisted on talking in riddles like that.

“Transient, as in temporary?” JT picked up. He had been the last to arrive, having driven by the Whitly's house to pick up Malcolm's mother.

The doctor, a short man with round glasses, nodded absentmindedly “Mostly,” he agreed, flickering through the file in his hands, his eyes darting left and right as he read. “Says here he was being held hostage for a short period of time... do any of you know what happened during that time? What sort of trauma he experienced?”

Three pairs of brown eyes turned towards Vijay. Jessica, following their gaze, looked at the young man as well. Apparently, he was the one with all the answers.

“He... was slapped?” he offered, because honestly, that was all that he had seen. In the time it had taken for him to reach the parking lot and drive back, Malcolm had managed to somehow get the whole gang to shoot each other. And blinded.

The doctor's nose twitched, finally looking up from the file to face them. “Malcolm's CT scan suggests a lot more than a 'slap',” he noted dryly. “He has a mild occipital contusion, which in turn caused his current state.”

“A contusion? In his brain... so, there's nothing wrong with his eyes? Other than the fact that he can't see, that is...” Jessica's voice faltered at the end, as if saying the words made it all the more real.

“His eyes are working fine,” the doctor explained kindly. “The problem is that the message just isn't getting through to his visual cortex, because of the swelling. As it goes down, I expect the condition to resolve itself.”

“A _condition_ that is temporary, right?” Jessica stressed, needing the reassurance. _Condition_ was such a harmless word for the world of darkness that could lie ahead for her son. And his life was already bad enough with the monsters that populated his dreams in the darkness of the night. It would end him to have no respite during daylight.

“In most cases, yes,” the doctor pointed out all too honestly, sounding to them like the ultimate master of comfort and confidence. “We'll be monitoring his condition closely, do another CT scan in twelve hours and reevaluate then. Now, if you'll excuse me...”

Gil wrapped an arm around Jessica's shoulders. Despite her leveled and composed appearance, he knew her well enough to see through the facade and know that she was about to lose it. The cracks were showing in how tight her hands were fisted by her side.

At the crime scene, Gil had felt nothing but relief at seeing four dead bodies on the ground and realizing that none of them was Malcolm. He had looked fine, happy even, until his eyes had lost all focus and he begun reaching for the cement column behind him like a drunk man. When they were forced to admit that Malcolm's eyes weren't working, Gil had feared the worst.

He had no idea what had happened in that place, he had no idea how Malcolm and his friend had ended up being the only ones standing up in a room full of armed, violent criminals, especially when neither of them carried a gun. And he had no idea what could have caused Malcolm's eyes to simply stop working.

Now he knew, but that knowledge didn't made things any easier. Doctors in general seemed to suffer from a deadly allergy to give people absolute certainties, and this one was no different. _Most cases_ mostly meant that _some cases_ were left blind for life. And there was no telling which way Bright might go.

“I wanna go home.”

And that was the last voice any of them had expected to hear in the hallway outside Malcolm's room. Or to see the man himself. Standing. By the door.

Malcolm looked... ridiculous.

The flimsy hospital gown was short enough to showcase skinny, hairy legs, locked at the knees in an effort to keep himself upright. His right hand, a small trickle of blood flowing from where once had been an IV line, was holding onto the door frame for dear life, while the other was firmly behind his back, probably trying to keep some of the _backdraft_ in control.

He was also looking directly at them, meeting everyone in the eye. “Yes, I can see you and yes, I'm sure we're all very happy about it.“ Malcolm blurted out, a blush creeping up from his neck and up to cover his face. “Now, can we get past the whole celebrating part and doubting my sanity part and trying to convince me to stay part... and just get to the part where I can get some damn clothes?”

“Malcolm! Are you out of your mind?” Jessica let out, managing to muster a reaction while the others were still stunned into inaction by the whole speech. Unlike Dani and JT or Vijay, Jessica was actually used to deal with her son's... peculiarities in general and aversion to hospitals in particular. “Get back to your bed, young man! Right this instant!”

The profiler frowned. “I'm not five anymore, mother,” he pointed out, although the pout stole some of his adult credibility. “You can't send me to bed and I can discharge myself.”

Gil was having a hard time keeping a straight face. He had actually been privy to a couple of similar situations, even if staring a much younger version of Malcolm. Somethings, it seemed, never changed. “Kid, listen to your mother... we're really happy that you're feeling better, but a couple more hours in the hospital won't kill you.”

Malcolm's eyebrow rose, a fleeting look of betrayal in his eyes at the realization that Gil was siding with Jessica, before a streak of pure stubbornness that all of them knew all too well settled over the profiler's face. His eyes converged on the zip bag on the chair behind Jessica, all of his belongings inside. Including the suit he'd been wearing when he arrived.

“Fine,” he said, licking his lips and taking a deep breath before letting go of the doorframe's support. “I'll just get them myself.”

He was actually more steady on his feet than any of them would've imagined, Malcolm included. Reaching the bag on the chairs had been the easy part, as he advanced facing them. It was only when he turned around to get back to the room that everyone got to see just how deep Malcolm's resolve was, as he flashed them with far more skin than any of them was expecting.

“Dude!” JT protested, turning to face the wall.

Dani hid her smirking face behind her hand, seriously pondering whether or not to take her phone out. If Edrisa ever found out that they had been treated to a Bright full mooning -so to speak- and she hadn't been there to see it or photographic evidence had not been collected, the detective would never hear the end of it.

“Honestly, Malcolm...” Jessica protested half heartily, following her son into his room. Since there was no convincing him otherwise, someone had to make sure that he actually got dressed properly before coming back out, or they would never be able to step foot in that hospital ever again.

Behind them, the very distinct click of a shooting camera was lost under the sound of Gil laughing.

After all, Edrisa's birthday was coming up.


End file.
